Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(70)

Maryse stared at him in disbelief. “You had that recording? And couldn’t someone just steal the flash drive?”

“Wouldn’t do any good. There’s a satellite on the roof. It’s sending a feed to my buddy in New Orleans. That’s who I called. The flash drive only covers part of the building.”

Satellite feed? Monitored footage by remote in New Orleans? Maryse’s head started to spin. Something was very, very wrong here. That was an awful lot of energy and time, not to mention the cost, to spend on a woman Luc hadn’t even known the week before. “Luc, has someone broken in here before?”

Luc barely glanced at her and nodded, then looked out the window again. “The back door was unlocked the day after your truck wreck. I thought maybe you’d just forgotten to lock it, but then I clearly remembered checking it the night before. After your cabin blew up, I figured it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

Maryse blinked, trying to absorb everything, but it was like trying to take in The Godfather trilogy in a single sitting. “So what exactly did your buddy in New Orleans see when the alarm went off?”

Luc turned to face her, his expression grim, his jaw set in a hard line. “The suspect was behind the office. He was wearing a backpack and holding what looked like a spool of wire.”

“And he probably wasn’t hiking.” Maryse studied Luc’s face, certain there was more he wasn’t telling her—like maybe why a zoologist was using words like “suspect.”

Luc shook his head. “Not likely. He was probably about to rig another device like the one used on your cabin. Regardless, we need to get out of here and stay out until the week is over. This place is too remote. Not nearly enough escape routes.”

Maryse narrowed her gaze and stared Luc straight in the eyes. “And exactly how many escape options does a zoologist need?”


Luc’s expression went completely blank, and he looked away. “There’s something we need to talk about,” he finally said, “but it needs to wait. It wouldn’t take much to launch a fire bomb in here.”

Fire bomb? Launch? Hell, her stapler wasn’t going to cover that one at all. “Fine. We’re leaving now, but as soon as we’re out of the parking lot, you’re going to start talking.”

Luc nodded and pulled the 9mm from his waistband. “Wait here a minute.” He opened the front door and peered out with the gun clutched up near his shoulders, ready to take aim and fire. Then he edged out the door. A couple of seconds passed before he stuck his head back in and motioned her beside him.

Given that Maryse was certain she wasn’t going to like whatever Luc was about to tell her in the car, the last place she wanted to be was close to him, but it was a better than running with her stapler. Barely. She slipped outside and waited while he locked the door, then crept behind him, practically glued to his hip. Luc was on high alert, scanning all directions for a sign of movement.

Or bomb setters.

Maryse tried to maintain her cool, but with every step she grew more and more anxious to get away from this isolated stretch of bayou. This was all Helena’s fault—her and her damned money. If this is what you got for mingling with “society,” when it was all over, Maryse was burying herself deep, deep in the bayou where only the mosquitoes could find her.

They were almost to the car when a nutria scurried out of the underbrush directly in front of them. Before her mind could even register the small, beaverlike creature, Maryse dropped the stapler and hauled ass to the car, beating Luc’s strides by a mile. She grabbed the door handle and yanked, thankful she didn’t have long nails to break, jumped inside, and scrunched down as far as possible on the floorboard. Luc jumped in a second later, started the car, and tore out of the parking lot like they were on fire.

Which lately could be a real possibility.

When the rattle from the floorboard went away, Maryse knew they’d reached the highway. She inched up from her fetal position and onto the seat, albeit somewhat slouched, but at least in a semi-sitting position.

“You all right?” Luc asked, the concern evident in his voice.

“Oh, just peachy. I’m getting so used to people trying to bump me off that tomorrow I probably won’t even run. In fact, I was just thinking I ought to wear my best dress every day to save the undertaker the time later on.”

Luc gave her a small smile. “You’re doing great, Maryse. Most people wouldn’t have made it this long without having a nervous breakdown.”

Maryse glared. “And what makes you think I haven’t? Do I seem remotely normal to you?”

“You’re completely out of your element. You’ve had a ton of physical and mental stress put on you in a very short time—not withstanding your new paranormal abilities.”

A gross understatement. “Yeah, out of my element. Sorta like a zoologist toting a nine like a character from Law & Order?”

A light flush crept up Luc’s face, and Maryse knew she was in for some very bad information. Luc stared out the windshield a few seconds before speaking. “I got involved with you because it was my job.”

“And that job is…and let’s just stop pretending the answer is zoology.”

“I’m a special agent for the DEQ.”

Maryse straightened up in her seat. This was definitely not the answer she’d expected. “You’re kidding me.”